Man of Steel starts off with Kal-El emerging out of Lara Lor-Van’s vagina with no blood/umbilical cord on him, so obviously he isn’t a mortal. He’s made of Steel. That made me wince, so it’s safer for me to refrain from whining about these moments.

The film has a lengthy backstory to establish the reason why Kal-El’s parents chose to send him to Earth from Krypton and build a new adversary in the form of General Zod (Michael Shannon). It played out once, and Jor-El recapped it once again for his all grown-up son. It hurt my patience irreversibly. I know it’s a reboot and it needs time to grow as a film on screen, but it wouldn’t have been endurable had it not been for the expectation of some action or an interesting turn to the story in the second half.

By the halfway mark, the bad guys resurfaced and there was hope. (Yes, ironic.) For the major part, the usual Clarke Kent-ish Superman (played by Henry Cavill) is Kal-El groping in the dark all the while discovering his cliche real identity. Russell Crowe’s part as Jor-El is testing as he drops into long monologues at every chance that he gets. The only character that induces life into an otherwise grim and dark screenplay is of Lois Lane’s. Fatefully, her budding romance with the man of steel is treated with little regard.

There are non-linear tracks playing simultaneously and I am a fan of that approach, but I couldn’t find much to pull myself into the shockingly predictable endeavors. There are only a few philosphically and symbolically impacful sequences transcending throughout all the parallel tracks.

There are also very limited attempts at forced humor, but the most unintended hilarious scene is where Clarke puts on his reading glasses and no one recognizes him as he goes in front of the same people who saw him at a meter’s distance without them. That one never fails!

Man of Steel is not a particularly good film, it’s just the much-awaited-first-film-that-lays-the-foundation-for-future-sequels and that alone would find takers.